Requiem
by E-Satan
Summary: An alternate story; where all of the tributes are original characters. The 67th Hunger Games has arrived, and the districts are being forced to hand over their tributes once again; unaware that this year, things will end differently—though for better or worse is something that no one will ever know, not until another few games pass, anyway.


**REQUIEM.**

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NOTE: This is an alternate story for The Hunger Games, and the characters consist entirely of original characters; created on two RP forums where I happen to be an active user. Basically, I wanted to create a story where the characters were forced against each other; because some of them happen to be good friends, lovers, friends with benefits—and the entire concept of them being placed against each other in a fight to the death is something that really interests me. Disclaimers, ownerships and credits are at the end of this first chapter—and I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are appreciated, for they tell me what people think of the story; which is going to be very slow paced, just saying. - Satan.

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 **CHAPTER ONE:** Tributes.

 _(_ **DISTRICT 1:** Jamie Madrox & Jaden 'Jay' Parker. _)_

The Reaping was something that brought great excitement to District 1, as it was a day that offered teenagers an opportunity to volunteer willingly; so that they could bring honour to their families, and the district that they had worked so very hard to keep within good rumours with the Capitol. The early morning air was filled with familiar scents; ones that could be recognised as perfume, hair products and just the general smell that told visitors from the Capitol that they were superior to the other districts that would be participating within the Hunger Games this year. And despite the fact that the district was indeed superior to many others; there was still the aspect of Two and Four, whom were also known to have a reputation within the Capitol that could help them once they were all placed into the arena—and that brought a smug smile to the face of the escort, whom looked over the crowds of teenagers and anxious adults whom stood in front of the stage; all awaiting to hear the results, ones that would make others volunteer, to be voiced.

Jaden Parker, nicknamed Jay, stood amongst the eighteen year old females; adorned within a dress that flowed so prettily within the soft breeze, coloured like a beautiful Rose Quartz with the slightest shimmer to it. She bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet, which were clad within off white pumps, and brushed her dark brown hair through her fingers; she was maybe one of the few citizens of District 1, whom wasn't the most excited person to be standing between two girls that she didn't really know too well—staring up at the escort who was dressed in a rather excessive amount of metallic colours; specifically gold, that glistened prettily within the sunlight that beamed down onto the district. The woman, speaking with the eccentric Capitol tone of voice and accent, repeated the same lecture that Jay had heard since she had been born; and the brunette had since learnt to simply tune the dramatic escort out, instead focusing on her own luck. She had been forced into this since she had turned twelve; and she had never once been chosen.

 _Three more months,_ she had told herself this morning; three more months and she would be freed from the terror that was the Hunger Games, because she would be nineteen. Teenagers within the Capitol would never realise the relief that was brought to potential tributes, when they realised that their nineteenth birthday was approaching them—it was something that she had seen even the toughest looking teenagers greet as though it were an old friend, whom had thought to be dead; the relief that flooded them, because they could now focus on becoming something that didn't require murdering teenagers who had been forced into an anonymous location that had been created for the entertainment of men, women and children who dressed in excessive colours and accessories. _Three more months,_ she had repeated to herself as she had slipped her hair up into a French braid. Three more months, and she could date the attractive boy in the hair salon without fearing that either of them would be ripped from each other by the games; she could be free.

 _( )_

Standing within the opposite crowd to the females, Jamie Madrox stood amongst the sixteen year old males; wearing a soft blue shirt that had been lurking in the back of his wardrobe since he had turned sixteen, and a simple pair of black trousers that were just a notch up from the type that he wore throughout his days. Unlike the brunette who was anxiously bouncing on her feet within her own line, Jamie stood without the same presentation of nerves that she had; instead he stood rather still, his black dress shoe clad feet only tapping against the smooth stone beneath them every now and then. His index finger ached from where he had been pricked to confirm his identity, but his racing heartbeat seemed to distract him from the throb that prompted soft trickles of crimson blood to roll down the digit—his fearful eyes staring upwards, searching for something that would rescue him from the fate that he had his suspicions about facing this year; he had been growing more and more nervous, suspicious and anxious about his fate since the start.

His name was within the reaping ball on five pieces of paper, and while he knew that there were other teens who were in there many more times; especially if they were claiming tesserae, but Jamie continued to be anxious about the situation. While he was looking around the general area, he noticed how pretty today was—an ironic thing, considering that today was the Reaping for the 67th Hunger Games, and the sun was shining brighter than ever; peeking through the tall, industrial buildings that filled District 1—beaming upon the morbid faces of the teenagers, adults and children that stood around; attempting to bring even the smallest smile to the faces of the younger victims within this cruel world. With the shrill voice of the escort echoing around the square, it was difficult to focus on the soft feeling of the breeze washing over the crowd; cooling them down in their states of mixed emotion—it was only easy to focus on the woman with a prominent hourglass figure teeter about the stage, her frighteningly tall stilettos clicking against the surface.

 _It's time,_ Jamie thought as he watched the metallic dressed woman lean over the reaping ball that possessed the names of each female within the district. She had crooned in her ever patronising tone of voice, that it would be ladies first—and Jamie carefully exhaled a breath, because while it was only prolonging a fate for a male within their district; it gave him the time to relax himself, in case he completely collapsed due to the name being called replicating his own; or the name of someone he was close with, male or female. He found it somewhat amusing—the fact that he was the son of two equally frightening parents, and a member of District 1; but he was someone who was too kind to be in such a cruel reality, where he was expected to accept murder as though it were a loaf of bread within District 12—as though it were the best gift that he could ever receive. Honestly, Jamie didn't know what had prompted him to be so very different from his family; he liked to think it was because he was born with a good heart, but having a good heart didn't mean anything if someone was brought up to believe in a specific routine—a specific belief; it just didn't happen, unless there was something conflicting the routine and beliefs.

Perhaps watching the games with his parents, who cheered for their favourites and booed for their hated tributes, had taken an early toll on his mind; perhaps he was just as much as a freak as those in the Capitol, who followed trends—food, fashion, decoration—that placed their lives at risk; so that they could have animal bodies, almost like the muttations that they seemed so fond of within the games. And don't even get him started on their make-up, or the bold colours that seemed to lace their bodies; some of them admittedly looked quite unique and beautiful, such as Effie Trinket, but Jamie would never consider the vicious woman up on their own stage to be anything other than false and an absolute eyesore—he pitied anyone who would have to spend the next few weeks within her presence, especially with her shrill voice and seemingly touchy-feely behaviour.

"...Beth Nickles!" The escort called into the silver microphone, her enunciation and closeness to the microphone bringing a loud pop; and Jamie carefully brought his attention towards the end of the line of the eighteen year old females, where a petite redhead with sharp features—deep eyes that twinkled with sadistic lust, pale skin that seemed to both blend and make her more prominent; perfectly arched eyebrows and a defined nose; while her hair was thrown upwards into a tight ponytail—stood next to an equally petite brunette; who definitely had a softer appearance with her sweet Rose Quartz coloured dress. Jamie couldn't make out the complete details for what the redhead was wearing, but she seemed to be wearing mostly white and blue; perfectly contrasting the girl next to her, as she started to step out of the line; only to stop and turn back to the other girl.

The brunette called, "I volunteer as a tribute!" It was enough to draw a couple of startled expressions and gasps from those who stood around, betting and watching their fellow district members go off to die, and the redhead who had appeared almost joyful when her name had been called—she now looked like the brunette had betrayed her; as though her volunteering to go into the arena for her, was possibly the worst crime that the girl could do to her, as she watched the smaller girl be tugged from the crowd by the five Peacekeepers who had approached to collect the redhead—Jamie didn't know much about her, other than the fact that she was Beth Nickles and a notorious bitch; someone who was willing to do absolutely anything to make sure that she was the star, even if it meant manipulating to the extent of pushing others to suicide. If rumours were true, Beth was also sleeping with the boyfriend of her best friend; whom Jamie assumed was the kind looking brunette who was being guided towards her death, completely oblivious to Beth.

 _( )_

It was frightening, really—standing up on the stage; everyone staring at her, as though she were going to do them proud in the arena. No one seemed to know that she hadn't done so well within the elite training that had been offered to her and Beth; who had done exceedingly well, and was really more lethal than Jay would ever manage to be within her entire life—which would undoubtedly be ending within the Bloodbath that would commence on the very first day of the games. Why had she volunteered? She had stood up, because Beth was her best friend and she deserved a life that wouldn't be plagued with haunting memories of the people she had killed in the arena; no one deserved that, except maybe the Capitol and those who found it entertaining to see children and teenagers fight to the death—or become mauled by the muttations that chased after them all. Yes, perhaps only those terrible people deserved to experience the haunting memories that would undoubtedly come; if Jay managed to make it through the first week, that is.

The escort chirped, "Your name, dear?" Her shrill voice seemed to be that much louder now that Jay was standing directly next to the woman, inhaling a perfume that could have been nice had it not been hitting Jay like a tsunami; most likely due to the fact that the woman had placed too much on, or maybe because she was in District 1 and had wanted to try the number of new perfumes that had been created since her last visit. Regardless, it broke Jay from her thoughts; and she nervously looked about—on the stage behind, the victors of District 1 were sitting to the side; Gloss and Cashmere seemed their usual confident selves, as they sat side-by-side, dressed in the clothes that had undoubtedly been shipped straight from the best tailor within the Capitol itself. And then there was the mayor and his two sons, though his wife was absent due to her recent death; a shame.

"Jayden—Jay Parker." Jay eventually responded, as she turned her attention back towards the crowd; a moment of cheering and clapping sounded from the crowd, and Jay barely managed to force the smile needed—as she stared at the mixture of people that stood before her. She wasn't looking towards Beth, and so she was completely oblivious to the stony glare that she was being fixed with; blissfully unaware that her goodbye from the redhead wouldn't be a hug, a kiss and a plea for her to come back safely—but rather, it would be a revelation that would leave Jay gasping until someone offered her something pure to breathe in. As she nodded and smiled at the cheering crowd, Jay started to feel uneasy; maybe because she was finally beginning to take in the fact that she had thrown her life away—given into the Capitol, more so than she already had by following them. Her stomach growled softly beneath her dress, not because she was hungry; but rather because she could feel bile forming in the back of her throat—she wanted to throw up; get rid of whatever breakfast had landed in her stomach this morning. But she didn't, because she knew that would bring more dishonour to her district; and she didn't want that.

And so, she stood still with a false smile upon her lips; fighting down the sick that tried to rise within her throat, until the escort silenced the cheering crowd and hurried on over towards the second reaping ball—the one that held the names for all of the males within the district. Was it bad that she hoped her current boyfriend, Keith, would be her tribute? She knew it was terrible; to hope that her beloved was going to be joining her within an arena where they would have to kill each other, or someone else would kill the other before they could get to one another—so that they could at least make it a quick death for one another. If it were a stranger who was joining her up on the stage, maybe it would be easier to remain distant; to remain cold, so that she didn't grow attached, like she had done with her beloved—it would be easier to get over his death; as cruel as it sounded.

The escort dipped her hand into the ball, and snatched the first paper that she happened to allow her fingers to graze over; before she made her way back to the microphone, leaving Jay to stare mindlessly at the little piece of paper that contained the name of her fellow tribute—the pretty handwriting hidden away by a small piece of black tape that was stuck onto the back of the paper. The escort easily broke it open, muttering incoherently under her breath as her eyes scanned the piece; before she shouted to the crowd, "Jamie Madrox!" And Jay felt her heart actually stop beating within her chest for a split second; her eyes scanning the crowd, until she saw a horrified teen standing amongst the teens who were sixteen; who parted to allow the young man out from where he was nestled away into the corner—most likely hoping that he could leave the minute this was all over; and how well did she know that feeling, as she had been feeling it only moments before she had volunteered in the place of Beth—who continued to glare up at her friend.

It took a minute or two longer than necessary for Jamie to make his way up onto the stage, where he spared her a momentary glance and then looked outwards onto the crowd; while the escort continued on in her merry little way, "And there we have it! Our two newest tributes, Jayden Parker and Jamie Madrox, for the 67th Annual Hunger Games!" That was their cue to turn and shake hands, as the crowd roared with cheers and clapping; Jay took his hand within her own, and felt him squeeze it without much strength behind it—much like the fact that there was very little longing behind his eyes that told her he was excited to climb into the arena; Jay could only offer a very similar stare in reply, nodding. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favour!" The escort cheered once the two had released each other; and then they were being led away, and placed into rooms where Jay assumed she would be saying goodbye to her friends and family—as she knew that tributes were allowed that time; one of the few gifts the Capitol gave them.

 _( )_

Her mother and father visited her first; telling her how proud they were of her, and telling her that she made sure to keep the pointy end of the sword towards her enemies. Then her boyfriend visited her, and the two of them shared some potentially last moment intimacy together; hugging and kissing upon the sofa, until the Peacekeeper had claimed that their time was up—and that she had one more visitor before she was boarded onto the train to the Capitol; something that had brought a nod and smile from Jay, because she knew who would be her final visitor before she left for the games. Sitting upon the comfortable leather sofa, Jay looked around the room; it was darker than most of the rooms that she was used to, because it was in the back of the Justice Hall that had very little sunlight around this time in the morning—but she could make out the smooth wallpaper and wooden flooring around her, which were decorated plainly; the floor possessing a simple cream rug, and the walls possessing a couple of photographs of District 1 and such.

 _What have you gotten yourself into?_ Jay thought, sighing as she nestled her head into her hands; she couldn't go back on her decision now—volunteers didn't have such a thing; there were no take backs, so that she could throw her best friend into the arena and cuddle up with her boyfriend while they both watched Beth fight for her life within the arena. She would have to face this, whether she chose to commit suicide within the arena by jumping off of her podium before the games started; or whether she went in there, strong and with the mindset of winning—she would have to face her decision, and as Jay exhaled another sigh; she realised that she would need to talk to Cashmere for advice on nerves; ones that couldn't be cured with the mere thought of _being nervous will get you killed_ —she was sure the blonde could help her; she seemed supportive enough, honestly.

"Five minutes," the Peacekeeper murmured as the door creaked open once again; only to close with a much louder slam, and before Jay could look up—her head had been pulled upwards and the familiar hand of her best friend had struck her cheek, drawing a pained yelp from the brunette; because it wasn't a simple slap delivered with the palm of her hand—oh no, Beth had used the back of her hand and had sent Jay stumbling onto the hard wooden floor. The strike had left ringing within her ears; high pitched ringing that brought a sense of dizziness to Jay, as she meekly lifted one hand to her already swelling cheek—eyes lifting upwards to stare confusedly at her best friend, who loomed over her with a dangerous vibe that the brunette had only experienced when she was dealing with drunkards while they were on their way home from an exhausting night within work; Jay was admittedly frightened, as she shrunk backwards against the same wall she had been considering bland and dull only minutes before the aggressive assault on her tired face.

"Are you _stupid_?" Beth hissed bitterly at her, and Jay had a feeling that she wasn't supposed to answer; so she simply stared at Beth, confused by the sudden change in behaviour that she was experiencing from the redhead who had always been nice to her—albeit, a little cruel sometimes; but all best friends had their condescending moments. Beth had started to pace, "You ridiculed me out there, Jayden! This was my chance to prove myself, and you took that away from me; so I hope that you don't come out of that arena—and even if you do, though we both know that someone such as yourself won't manage it, I hope you become a hollow shell of yourself; and never leave your new home." Beth told her as she pointed fingers at the brunette, who still remained on the floor; but had since started to softly weep, as this was all coming to her far too quickly for her to do much else than to prove Beth right—Jay was nothing more than a crybaby beneath the kindness and intimidating act she liked to perform; and the other tributes knew it, too.

Beth continued to rant for a minute longer; kicking her sharply within the shin to finish herself off, which drew a pained sob from the brunette. It was around that time that the Peacekeeper outside of the door must have started to feel something wasn't adding up, as the door flew open and the man was on Beth in a matter of seconds; shouting at the blonde to back off, and Beth seemed to go along willingly for the most part. Though, just as the Peacekeeper was pulling her from the room; Beth got in one final hit on Jayden—though this one was a verbal attack that left the brunette fuming, "And don't worry about Keith; I'll make sure to keep his bed warm, like I've been doing for the past month." Laughter shook the redhead as a malicious grin spread across her lips, and Jay was on her feet in a matter of minutes; limping ever so slightly due to the kick, but running towards the closing door with every intention of grabbing the red haired bitch and making her pay for what she had said—even though she knew her words were so very true.

 _BANG!_ The door slammed shut, just as the brunette slammed into the door; banging her hands against the door and screaming for someone to let her out, so that she could have her way with the still laughing teen who she no longer considered her best friend; but rather her next victim, whether she murdered Beth before or after the games was unimportant—she just knew that now, as she banged her fists on the door and screamed that Beth better find a good hiding spot before she returned home, she was going into the arena as the same determined tributes who were entering from other districts. And that thought swelled inside of her; even as she was heading to the train station with Jamie, and ignoring the panicked fretting of their escort and the curious stares of many others—even as she was boarding the train and taking a seat next to Jamie on the luxurious sofa, which gave them both the perfect view of the landscape on the other side of the train; where she wouldn't have to look at the crocodile tears of Keith, and where he wouldn't have to see that the station was void of his family for the umpteenth time since a tribute had been chosen. Even as the train started to take off, apparently moving at inhuman speeds; according to their escort—not that any of them could feel it inside of their cart, she kept it buried deep within the front of her brain; determined to live up to it.

Even as her body became tenser with each passing moment, and even as her glare remained solid as their escort excused herself to find both Gloss and Cashmere; and it became that much more prominent when the two siblings arrived, taking a seat on the sofa across from them with expressions that told Jay that they knew they were dealing with the runts of the litter—two tributes from a Careers district that didn't view the games as an honour, but rather a sentence. Gloss was the one to speak; deep voice soothing, "We're here to make sure you remain alive for longer than five minutes within the games; how about we get to know each other a little, before we arrive in the Capitol?" And no one seemed to protest—Jay seemed open for a little bit of discussion before they got into the more detailed stuff, Jamie seemed uncertain about everything that had escaped his mentor's lips, and Cashmere had merely smiled in her ever charming way; looking between the two tributes, as though they were children that she needed to raise and protect. The two of them felt a little more protected beneath the kind expression; but they both knew it wouldn't last for long—they were their mentors, not their babysitters; they would soon enough be making sure that the odds were indeed in their favour, as they intended to make a victor out of either one of them—no exceptions; no weaknesses; only victory.

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DISCLAIMER: **The Hunger Games** does not belong to myself; only the wonderful author who thought up of such a complex story, Suzanne Collins. Most of these original characters also do not belong to myself, but rather some very good friends of mine; and I thank them deeply for allowing me to place them into this story that I've thought up.

OC OWNERSHIPS FOR CHAPTER ONE: **Jamie Madrox** belongs to **Ryan 'Zod' Gosling** , **Jayden 'Jay' Parker** belongs to **OblivionIsOnlyInevitable**.


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